Sounds part 3 of 5: Clamor
by Mounty Swiss
Summary: Twists and turns in a seemingly straight story.
1. Chapter 1

**Sounds Part 3 of 5: **

**Clamor  
**

_Twists and turns in a seemingly straight story._

**Denver Co., December 1993**

**Chapter 1**

The door bell of the Browns' house was rung impatiently.

Eve answered it. It was Jerry Abbey. He seemed to be hardly capable of restraining himself. "Madam, is Chief Brown at home?" he asked.

Ed heard him and approached the door, much to Eve's dismay. In her opinion he was far too exhausted to get up again.

Angrily the young Afro-American officer blurted out, "Sir, you won't believe this! I have an _arrest warrant_ against you. I have no idea what's going on. This is the most outrageous thing I've heard of since the affair around ..."

"Calm down, Jerry. We'll find out what this is all about." Ed was a little confused himself, but getting upset would not help.

"I'm supposed to book you immediately! Shall I tear the warrant to pieces?"

Ed smiled reassuringly at him. "Thanks, Jerry, I appreciate your support, but no, thanks."  
He got serious. "This has to be a misunderstanding. I will come with you immediately. Just let me get my jacket..."

When he picked it up Ironside held him back. "Ed, I have a lousy feeling about this. Maybe you should rather make a getaway."

"Chief, you know that I haven't done anything. This will clear up very soon, I'm sure."

Ironside's temper – together with his worry – got the better of him. "What in blazes do you expect to accomplish by going to prison?! You are in no shape to survive an ordeal unscathed."

The Sergeant Brown who had worked for him twenty years ago would have backed down immediately. Not today's Ed Brown though. He considered his old mentor's words carefully, but responded, "Chief, I want to comply with the rules my name stands for in this town. How could I expect the people of Denver to trust justice if I don't do it myself? I have to go. Please take care of Eve and Danny if there should be problems, will you?"

"Stubborn fool!" muttered Ironside under his breath. He could see Ed's point. He was an idealist. He still thought that everybody was basically as straight as himself, except for a few criminals who – if possible – had to be reformed.  
But there was something terribly wrong here, he could smell it.  
Yet when the black and white drove away he rolled over to Eve, who had sat down on the stairs in shock. Gently he hugged her. "Don't worry. He's stronger than he looks. If there is somebody out to destroy him they may be for the high jump."

* * *

When Ed was led into the Denver prison he felt for a moment as if in a flashback scene. As a young man he'd had a very impressive experience as 'John Doe' in prison*. Yet now everything was different. Times had changed. It was not as humiliating as it had been then. Moreover he had called on the prison personnel to respect the dignity of the prisoners. He had been successful. People were correct, and more than that.

Still it hurt. He was the Chief of detectives, and now he had to undergo the same procedures as every bum or crook. He thought that he got off at the wrong station.  
People who recognized him seemed to feel the same way though. "Sir, this is scandalous! We can't treat you like a criminal!" said the officer who had to take the pictures.

Ed appeased him. "Yes, it's some kind of mistake. But don't you worry, someone will find out about it any minute. I'm afraid your work is for nothing."

A very young prison guard asked excitedly, "Is this like in that movie with Robert Redford, 'Brubaker'? Are you here under cover, Sir?"

It made Ed smile – if only it was that simple.

Serenely he changed into the prison clothes they gave him. The shirtsleeves were too short and the pants were too large, but he didn't care.

A tall Afro-American guard led him to his cell. Ed had never met him before, but he bore a vague resemblance to Jerry Abbey, Ed's assistant.  
The guard looked at the new prisoner compassionately. When Ed stumbled he asked respectfully, "Sir, may I help you?" and reached out to support him. He didn't say what he was thinking: that this was for sure the worst idiocy he'd ever witnessed in this prison.

"I'm Luther Abbey. Jerry Abbey is my cousin. I know that you don't belong here. It just can't be. I'm so sorry... you will be held in incommunicado. It's so awful wrong..."

Ed was almost glad that he would be alone. That way he would not have to explain anything to anybody. He lacked explanations himself.

* * *

Eve seemed to have trouble to snap out of her shock.

"Eve, I know how you are feeling. We will get him out of there. Please – think of Danny. He needs you now. And first and foremost let's find out what's going on!"

Finally she pulled herself together. "Thank you, Robert. I'm so glad you are here. I'm just so frightened..."

Only minutes later Jerry Abbey came back.

"Sir, Fisette is back in the office! I don't understand it. How could that happen?!"

Eve paled. Ironside frowned. "Don't ask me how Fisette managed to get out of prison – but I'm sure he is out for revenge on Ed, Hank and me. Without you knowing that he was behind it he sent you to book Chief Brown. I suppose it was some kind of test if you would be loyal to the Chief or if you would obey your orders."

"But this means that you are all in mortal danger!" exclaimed Eve.

"At any rate Hank can't go back to work. As far as I know he has two days off right now. After that I want him to call in sick. What puzzles me is why the FBI didn't interfere. Their agent knows that Fisette is a crook."

Jerry knew. "I overheard that he – or someone else - sent an e-mail to his boss saying that his father had died unexpectedly in Canada and that everything was settled in Denver. He would send a report as soon as he would be back."

"In that case we can't expect any help from the FBI right now. They would believe Fisette rather than us. We have to clean up this entire mess ourselves."

"What can we do then?"

"Fisette may think that you will be open to bribery, Jerry. It's a certain risk, but I need you to go back and keep your eyes open for me. Are you ready to take that risk for Ed Brown and for me?"

"Of course I am. Just tell me what you want me to do."

"Remain inconspicuous and keep me up to date. But be careful about how you contact me, and don't trust anybody."

"Robert, Ed has this bug-proof cell-phone, the same kind he gave Hank," remembered Eve.

It was agreed that Ironside would use this phone. Jerry learned the number by heart, but he would contact Hank in the first place, since his own phone was not secure.

After Jerry had left Ironside informed Hank Riley by phone.

"Chief Brown in prison?! Now that's the wildest thing I have ever heard of. The entire town knows that he is straight!"

"Let's hope that the entire town adheres to that. It may become necessary."

Eve did what she had always done when she felt that her nerves started to go on overdrive: she made a pot of fresh coffee and offered Ironside some too. It didn't bring much relief, but it brought back the old feeling of solidarity and of tackling obstacles together.

Yet Ironside had to shake her out of that cozy feeling. "Eve, let's face it: this is a conspiracy within the highest ranks of the municipal government of Denver. You are in danger as well. You know the truth. I want you out of here with Danny."

"What an idea! I can't leave Ed! He's so vulnerable right now! They will have to let me see him at least..."

"The people who are behind this won't let you talk to him. They can't. And you know as well as I do that Ed would want you out of harm's way. They could even try to blackmail him if they told him that they have you in custody."

Eve knew that he was right. Ed had to worry about himself. He could not protect his family, and her and Danny's safety would be top priority for him. "Where do you want us to go?"

Ironside thought about it for a minute. "I have an old friend in Omaha, General Sparks. I will tell him to come and get you by military airplane. That way chances are good that you can't be found. I'm sure that's what Ed would want."

"But Robert – what about you? You were the one who brought Fisette down in the first place. They will want to kill you too!"

Ironside was well aware of that fact. But if he left the sinking ship it meant giving up Ed. He might just vanish without a trace, and sooner or later he would die from a relapse of his illness or get killed. Ironside would not let that happen! Rather would he put his own life on the line...

* * *

* Ironside S6/7 Nightmare Trip


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Ironside contacted his old friend. He didn't even have to call in a favor; General Sparks was more than ready to help out.

They drove out to Buckley Air Force Base. Ignoring the pain in his arm Ironside had taken the wheel of the rented car himself.

Soon he noticed that they were being followed. "We've got company."

Eve, who was still shook up, was frightened again. But her strong mentor's presence helped her keep her wits together. "Robert, the kids of the children's home said that Ed just had to say if he should ever need them. I think they will be happy to hide you."  
What not even her son knew was that Ed had thought about what they had done to Danny when he had been a home child.* He wanted to prevent such horrible occurrences with everything in his power. He was convinced that children needed to be loved, that they needed something to be proud of, and that they needed dignity. If they got all that, then they would less likely turn against one another again. Therefore he had tried to help them, and he had always treated them with respect. He had proposed some of them for youthful offender treatment and helped others find jobs. The ones in prison told their friends about the basketball team he had coached. Now they were all fans of him.  
"They know lots of hideouts in this town, and they will want to help you clear him."

Ironside knew well how to get rid of a shadow. He was as good a driver as Mark or Ed had ever been.

Alone and unscathed they reached the Air Force Base.

They were already awaited there, and for Danny a dream came true when he was allowed to fly in a Learjet of the United States Air Force.

Ironside breathed a sigh of relief when he knew that Ed's family was secure now.

* * *

He found the orphanage easily. He waited outside until he saw two teenage boys with hockey equipment come home. He called them.

"Hey, do you know Chief Brown?"

"Of course we do. He's a great guy."

"We are friends. I would like you to do me a favor."

"What can we do for you?"

"Jump in, I'll explain."

* * *

Meanwhile Eve and her son had reached Omaha. General Sparks had assigned them a small studio on the military base. It was more than comfortable enough. After the excitement of the flight Danny had become very thoughtful.

"Mum, exactly why would the kids in the children's home want to help Chief Ironside help Daddy?"

"Because your Daddy helped them."

"Isn't the Chief now in danger as well?"

"Yes, he is."

"Why does he help us then?"

"Because he loves us."

"So... love can be different, can't it? You are like a cuddly blanket and you don't rant when I forget to put my socks in the laundry basket. Is that love too?"

Eve had to smile. "Yes, Danny, it's love."

"And Daddy helps me understand things, and he never gives up on me. That's love too, isn't it?"

Eve was deeply touched: Danny was trying to understand a term of affection!

"Sure."

"Daddy didn't know that he would need the kids' help one day. He helped them anyway."

"Love is doing things without expecting anything in return. That's what it is all about."

Danny was looking for a pattern. "You mean – love is like overpressure in a gas bottle – everybody can profit from the energy stored in it?"

Eve wanted to hug him, but she knew that he would not like it.

"Mummy... why are you crying?"

* * *

The kids of the orphanage – Bill and Jamie - had decided that the basement of their school was the ideal hideout for Ironside: it was a quiet place during the holidays, it was warm and dry.

Ironside had left the rented car several blocks away, since his pursuers knew the car. That way it would not betray his whereabouts.  
He took Ed's mobile phone with him. It was the only possibility to get in contact with Hank or Jerry, the only persons he could trust right now... except for a few teenagers.

It was quite a modern school; there was even an elevator, which made things easier for Ironside.

When he was alone he called Hank Riley.

"Make yourself scarce. Try to get in contact with Jerry, but make sure that you don't get caught!"

After that he explored the entire basement of the school. Finally he settled himself in the heating space, where it was nice and warm. He didn't risk getting out of his chair to lie down, since he didn't know if the boys would be strong enough to help him back into it in the morning. Therefore he didn't get much sleep, but he could manage that, for the time being at least.

* * *

The night was awful cold. The thin blanket was not enough to keep the prisoner warm after he had lost all his reserves due to being sick. But Ed Brown would not be Ed Brown had he cared about it.

His concern was for his family. It was a blessing that the Chief was there. Nobody could better protect them than him.

The next morning Luther brought his breakfast.

"Sir, don't eat this," he whispered. "It's been tampered with. The water's ok, and this too..."

Like a prestidigitator he slid a chocolate bar under the paper napkin to escape the camera in the hallway. The tray was passed through the hatch and then Chief Brown was alone again.

For a moment he sat there stunned. Did this mean that somebody wanted to poison him?

* * *

_* ff-story 'Patterns'_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

For a moment Chief Brown sat there stunned. Did this mean that somebody wanted to poison him? It was very unlikely that Luther had been lying. Why should he?

Well, it would be enough to mix a laxative or something like that into his food; too many people had seen what state he was in. A severe diarrhea would be enough to kill him. But why should anybody want to kill him? Very strange, indeed.

Knowing that he needed all the strength he could get, but still with a blatant lack of enthusiasm, he ate the chocolate bar and drank the water.

The next meal was brought by someone else. There was no warning and no snack. Ed stuck to water. He wasn't too hungry anyway, and it wasn't worth the risk.

* * *

The next morning the kids came back to Ironside with a sandwich and a bottle of water. It was not quite enough to satisfy his hunger, but still better than nothing.

"Listen, Bill – you are no prissy dweeb, are you? Why are you and your pals helping me?"

Pretentiously the boy answered: "Chief Brown is our friend, and you are Chief Brown's friend. His friends are our friends!"

Over the next few days they kept bringing some food – just enough to keep Ironside from starving. By phone he remained in contact with Hank Riley, who in turn got a phone call from Jerry every now and then. But their patience was sorely tried. The only information Jerry could provide was that at police headquarters there seemed to be business as usual. As Chief Brown was supposedly on holidays nobody wondered about his absence.

"Warden Granger must be involved in the scheme," Ironside reminded his intimates. "It's very unlikely that he didn't know that Fisette was there, and I'm pretty sure he knows that Ed Brown is there now, since he's the only one who can keep these facts a secret."

Hank, who had sneaked by to see Ironside, was very worried. "What if Chief Brown falls ill again?"

"The best place to get some information about him is the prison. Go for a workout with the juvenile offenders! Maybe they know something – or they can find out."

Hank overcame his fear of the 'punk kids'. Of course they were a little wary of him, but they respected Ed's wish to give Riley a chance. Hank asked their leader, Jean-Luc, if he knew anything about Chief Brown. Jean-Luc didn't. He was shocked when he learned the news. "Be assured that we will keep our eyes and ears open! We won't let our Chief down!" he promised solemnly.

* * *

The following days went by in the same routine. Ed Brown felt cold to the bone – like frozen stiff – night and day. Luther Abbey was on duty once a day and his chocolate bar remained the only food Ed dared to eat. There were no visitors, no questioning, and there was no attorney. Ed mulled over the question what had gone wrong. Had commissioner Fisette somehow managed to turn the tables? In that case he wanted to get rid of him now, and of his family and his closest friends here in Denver as well.

It was his fault – he had been all too gullible. He had suspected Fisette right from the beginning, but he never wanted to step on anybody's toes if he was not sure. Moreover the Chief had warned him not to go to prison, and Ed had been too trusting again; he believed in the good and in justice. Apparently he was wrong, and this insight hurt. This was now the comeback. If Ironside could not come up with an idea he would most probably not make it out of here alive. And what was even worse: Eve, Danny, the Chief, Hank and maybe others were in mortal danger now. Would Ironside be able to handle this one?

* * *

The third day Bill and Jamie were all wired up when they joined Ironside. "We had to climb through the light well. The caretaker is home from his holidays already, and he can overlook the entrance!"

Through the closed window of the caretaker's apartment Ironside heard a booming voice, probably the caretaker's, "Hello? Hello? Am I speaking to the police? - What? – Ah, yes, thank you... Beg your pardon? Why did I phone?"

"John, tell him that we have some intruders in the basement!" shouted a female voice.

"I was just about to tell them!" the man yelled back.

Ironside wondered briefly what had been first: a deaf caretaker, a deaf wife or a TV-set played too loudly. It took a smarter detective than Robert T. Ironside to figure that one out, he thought.

"Yes, officer, we have an intruder in our basement. Where? I just told you: IN THE BASEMENT! – Ah, you mean the address..."

Ironside decided that he didn't need to know the address. He already knew. But how should he get away without being seen? The apartment had that window towards the entrance of the school, which was probably quite handy sometimes... but not for him in this case.

Jamie and Bill looked questioningly at him. "You have to get out of here!" whispered Bill.

"But how?" asked Jamie. "The light well is too narrow for you."

Ironside recalled the construction of the cellar. "In the heating duct there is a big tube going out – does it lead to the sports hall across the playground?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe. Why do you ask?"

"My wheelchair will fit through the light well, if it is folded. You climb out there and get away. I will pull myself through that channel along the tube. You look for me in the basement of the gym with the wheelchair. From there I can get away unseen. Understood?"

"Oh yes! I always wanted to sit in a wheelchair. Jamie will push me..."

"No, Bill – Jamie will sit in the chair."

"Awww! Why?"

"Because his shoes are newer."

The boys understood.

Still – if the police would take a single look at Jamie's soles they would notice that he was not paralyzed.

"What are you waiting for?!"

Ironside pulled himself into the duct, using the tube to get on. It was not the first time he did such a stunt.

The boys left with his wheelchair. Ironside could just hope that they would not be stopped by the police.

Once Ironside was a few yards into the channel, it got completely dark. Well, he would not get lost, would he? Pull-up by pull-up he advanced. Yet he could not but notice that he had aged a little over the last twenty years, when he had done such a stunt before*, and his injured arm still hurt during this overexertion. This kind of movement wasn't ideal for people of his age and state. His back screamed. Ironside gritted his teeth and went on. And on. And on. Was this flaming duct endless? He turned his head – and saw some kind of light ahead. With renewed energy he pulled his body along the tube, although he could feel that his jacket was in shreds and his back would, as an extra, get badly scratched.

Finally he reached the opening. He would never admit it – not even to himself – but he would not have been able to do another dozen of these pull-ups.

Somehow he got out of the channel and down to the ground. Where in blazes were Bill and Jamie?

It would have been quite a risk to shout. But did they even know the basement of the gym well enough to find him?

Again Ironside had to rely on the strength of his tortured arms: He pulled himself to the door of the dimly lit room he was in, opened the door and glanced out. He could not see anybody, but listening carefully he heard a strange sound. He laid his hand onto the heating pipe which branched off the big one which came from the school. Now he felt it: Somebody was tapping against it! These boys weren't stupid! He started to rap at the pipe too. The next sound he heard was closer... footsteps... and soon afterwards Bill and Jamie turned the corner, grinning from ear to ear.

They managed to help Ironside back into his wheelchair. Another elevator took them up to the entrance, and together they left the gym.

"Where to?" asked Bill.

"Any suggestions, Robin Hood?"

Bill blushed at the compliment.

"What about the swimming pool? Nobody goes there at this time of the year."

"The gate is locked. How do you want Mr. Ironside to get over it?" objected Jamie.

"The swimming pool it is!" decided Ironside. "Let's worry about the gate when we are there."

The boys darted questioning looks at one another, shrugged their shoulders and pushed Ironside down the road.

The gate to the swimming pool was locked indeed, and the way it was built it would have been difficult to climb over it even for the two athletic boys. They shook their heads in disbelief when Ironside opened the lock with Mark's old paper-clip trick.

"Do the police commit housebreaking too?" wondered Jamie.

Ironside decided that he had to use this opportunity to do a little preaching. "You know that your Chief Brown worked for me when he was young. He was not alone though."

"Mrs. Brown worked for you too, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did. And there was another young man. He had been a juvenile delinquent, but he became a fine co-worker. He went to law school, became a police officer, later an attorney and today he is a judge. He showed me how to pick locks, but of course I never use my knowledge for anything illegal..." Well, what he was doing right now wasn't exactly legal. How should he explain this?! "Except if the people who are supposed to protect the law misuse it, that is."

"Does Chief Brown know how to pick a lock as well?"

"Yes, Bill. He was the first one to pester his friend to show him how to do it."

"Why doesn't he break out of prison then?" asked Jamie.

Within a second the joyful mood disappeared.

"That's a bit more difficult. He needs our help to get out of there." Ironside's voice almost trailed off, "He needs it badly."

* * *

* Ironside S6/23 All Honorable Men


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The third day, a second prisoner was moved into Ed's cell: a tall, athletic man. As this was an incommunicado detention, this was more than suspicious: there was only one bed in the cell. The moment Ed recognized the man he knew that he was here to kill him: Gilette, the ex-cop who had been convicted to twenty-five years for the murder of Bell, the former Chief of Detectives.  
Ed knew that he didn't stand the slightest chance against the healthy, strong and much younger man.  
But then... meanwhile he had more or less been expecting some kind of attempt on his life. He would not make it easy for Gilette. He would fight for his life: He had a wife who loved him and a son who needed him. Gilette would have to make the murder look like a death of natural causes or at least an accident. If it lasted long enough Ironside might find a way out for him. Ed would not give up.

The hatch opened. "Your dinner, Mr. Brown," said a voice outside.  
Gilette picked the dinner tray up.  
Hidden under the paper napkin was Luther's snack, another chocolate bar.  
Gilette snatched it. "Oh, I like chocolate! I'm sure you won't mind..." He also took the water bottle. Ed was very thirsty, but there was nothing he could do. He didn't say a word – it wouldn't have changed anything.  
Gilette didn't touch the plate though. He must have been warned about the poison or whatever it was. He drank the water and enjoyed the chocolate bar. He would be able to go without any food – or with very little - for much longer than his former boss.

Sitting on the cold floor Ed managed to stay awake during the following night. It would have been far too dangerous to give in to the fatigue. It helped a lot that he was shaking with cold all night – Gilette had taken his blanket and slept like a baby on the only bed available, obviously not disturbed by Ed's frequent coughing.

* * *

The kids of the orphanage provided Ironside with a blanket and some food – potato chips, cookies and a box of cornflakes. "Sorry, that's all we could get together. You didn't want us to _steal_, did you?"

Ironside stared in disgust at the cornflakes. "You did great! Of course I don't want you to steal! What did you expect?!"

"Exactly that!" smirked the two boys.

* * *

The next day, after twenty-four hours of continuous shivering, Ed felt that his fever had risen rather high. The food routine was the same as the day before. Ed was not hungry at all. But he knew that he needed some water. He didn't get any, Gilette saw to it.

During the night he fought against falling asleep. Finally the exhaustion got the better of him. This was the moment Gilette had no doubt been waiting for. Fisette had won, but somehow it didn't seem to matter anymore...

The next thing Ed knew was that somebody washed his hot forehead. The wet cloth felt good, while he was lying on the bed and was covered with the blanket and a prison shirt, or at least parts of it. Someone was talking to him in a pleading voice. Confused he realized that it was Gilette.

"Chief, don't give up. I will try to get help for you. Please, Sir, fight for your life. Don't die on me now..."

* * *

Ed's cell-phone rang. Ironside had to fumble around until he found the right button. Blasted technology. That's what they called 'progress'! Finally he found it. "Sir, this is Jerry. I had to call you directly. My cousin, who works as a prison guard, told me that Chief Brown is in an incommunicado detention."

That was to be expected, thought Ironside. At least they seemed to get some reliable information now – and at least Ed was alive.

Jerry went on: "Now my cousin says that there is a second man in his cell."

Ironside was alarmed. "Can you trust your cousin?"

"Yes; he also said that he thinks that Chief Brown's food was tampered with, but he warned him about it. He brought him something else."

"Thank you, Jerry. And Jerry..." for a second he didn't know how to continue. "Try to stay alive!"

Hank had just come by. Ironside forced himself to sound calm.

"All right, what do we know?" Ironside asked him after he had informed him about the newest development.

"I know that Mrs. Brown must be worried half to death, but I don't know if we should call her or not."

"Of course Mrs. Brown is worried! But what in blazes do we know about the case?!"

Hank wondered if this was the way the famous detective used to talk to Chief Brown, Mrs. Brown and Judge Sanger when they were young. He, Hank, would never be a Chief of detectives or a Judge; he could not keep up with their standards.

"Sir, _you_ know that I'm not as smart as Chief Brown and his friends. I will do whatever I can to save his life, but you will have to tell me what to do."

Ironside punched his fist down onto the armrest of his chair. "That's what we have to find out together! We are a flaming team, you and me and maybe Jerry! Who could help us?"

"The kids from the orphanage. They already have. The juvenile offenders he used to play basketball with. And then... I think you could ask any man or woman on the streets of Denver if they would help Chief Brown and they would say yes."

In spite of the difficult situation they were in, Ironside was amused. Hank's adoration of Ed Brown didn't seem to have any limits. But... on second thoughts... if what he said was only half true, then they had a chance. A daring idea started to form in his mind...


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The inhabitants of Denver were glued to their TV sets. This manifestation was the strangest thing they had ever heard of: A dozen youngsters were walking through the streets shouting, "Save Chief Brown! Save Chief Brown! Punish the crooks, not the innocent! Save Chief Brown!"

"These are juvenile offenders who broke out of prison," explained a reporter. "Nobody knows how they were able to escape. This is an incredibly dangerous situation... it could end in a bloodbath..."

In the middle of the group walked a big, fat police officer – Sergeant Riley. He was held at gunpoint by one of the boys. Understandably he looked quite nervous. Policemen with their guns drawn flanked the rally. Nobody stopped it though. Newsmen and television reporters followed them at a respectful distance. This was just what they had been waiting for!

Yet something even more intriguing happened: the demonstration grew by the minute. The first to join it were children, maybe siblings or friends of the juvenile offenders. Then bystanders walked along and started to endorse the call for Chief Brown's release. Finally people left their cozy places in front of the TV set and took to the streets. A wave of sympathy for the trustworthy Police Chief swept over Denver. The pictures were transmitted all over the country, comments of old and young participants included. They all expressed their worry about Brown and their conviction of his innocence. There had to be a conspiracy against him, and they would not tolerate it!

Meanwhile the policemen had holstered their weapons and joined the manifestation.

In front of police headquarters the rally came to a stop – facing a big man in a wheelchair who had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Countless cameras filmed the encounter.

"What do you want to say? You will never have a larger audience!" shouted Ironside.

To everybody's surprise the kidnap victim started to talk, "Stay calm! We don't want anybody to get hurt. We just want people to know that there is a man in a life-threatening condition in our prison. It is Chief of Detectives Edward D. Brown, and we all know that he is innocent. We want him moved to a hospital immediately, and we want a fair, competent, neutral investigation undertaken by the FBI to find the real culprits. As soon as we get the promise that this will be done, we will all go back to prison and accept every fair verdict concerning this unauthorized demonstration."

"Sgt. Riley – were you abducted by these young prisoners?"

"No, I was not. The gun – my own - was unloaded." Jean-Luc handed Ironside the Berretta police special over. Ironside showed the assembled policemen and spectators in front of the rolling cameras that the magazine was empty.

Riley went on: "I went with the boys of my own volition. In fact I suggested to the boys to do this rally. We had to play this charade; otherwise we would not have got out of prison. If this means that I have to go to prison myself, so be it. Chief Brown is an honest man and he means a lot to all of us. We couldn't see an alternative. He must get proper care now."

Ironside looked directly into one of the cameras and repeated: "Save Chief Brown! Punish the crooks, not the innocent!"

The appeal was broadcast all over the United States of America. Children repeated it, and their parents joined in. And for once all political forces were united by the same longing for justice.

* * *

Gilette eyed the big man who was sitting at the table in the interrogation room somewhat cautiously. Ironside had to be well over sixty. No way would he have expected to be beaten by him with a fire-extinguisher last year on that train. Gilette would have killed him then...

The man looked still energetic and tough as nails.

"Gilette, you admitted that Fisette had sent you out to kill Chief Brown. You ended up saving his life. You didn't have to tell Luther Abbey that you were in Brown's cell. What made you change your mind?"

Gilette had thought that it would give him a certain amount of satisfaction to see the guy fall apart who had – together with Ironside – been responsible for bringing him down. What would remain of this polished man if he was stripped of his suit and his rank? And moreover Commissioner Fisette had promised that he would show his appreciation if he killed the man who had to be eliminated – again together with Ironside – to enable Fisette to keep his post.

When Gilette had entered his cell Brown had stood up... a hollow-cheeked, pathetic figure clad in ridiculously ill-fitting prison clothing, and obviously sick. He'd known immediately why Gilette was there, yet he had not shown any sign of fear. Gilette had seen the strong will in his brown eyes, and he had looked forward to breaking it. He had taken his bed, his blanket, his water and even his chocolate bar. He would never again be able to look at a chocolate bar without feeling ashamed.

Ironside's question sounded genuinely interested.

"He talked in his sleep when he was delirious with fever."

"What did he say?"

Gilette kept quiet. Up to that night he had thought that only old women and a handful of wackos were believers. Whatever one might say against Chief Brown – he was no wacko, he was a logical, sober policeman. Yet when his fever spiked he had started to talk to God. And what was totally unbelievable... even though he was in a really bad way he had given _thanks_ to God: for a teacher and model who meant the world to him, for good friends who made his life fulfilled and above all for a wife who had to be an angel and for a son who was a most precious gift for him. Gilette hadn't even known that Brown had a wife and a kid.  
But what had swept him off his feet was the Chief's only plea. Or had Gillette only dreamt that? Had Brown really said it? Maybe not. Anyway – it was what Brown had radiated, and that's what he told Ironside: "He said: 'Father, forgive him, for he doesn't know what he is doing'."

* * *

Ironside had his hands full with the aftermath of the worst conspiracy in the history of the Denver police. Strangely enough nobody ever asked if the audacious demonstration had actually been Sergeant Riley's idea – which of course it wasn't -, and it was never in question that he would have to go to prison for what he did.

When Ironside finally entered Ed's hospital room the next morning with a gift box of chocolates on his knees, the patient looked surprisingly alert. Ironside assumed that within a few days the IV in his arm would not hinder him from sneaking out of bed; he had never been one to be kept in hospital beds. Yet – what was absolutely unheard of: he was arguing with his wife!

"Honey, this is at least my third or fourth breakfast, I have lost track. You can't expect me to finish it...!"

Matter-of-factly Danny corrected: "Second."

Ed rolled his eyes and Eve wrung her hands. But as they saw that Danny started to worry they stopped their comedy and burst out laughing, leading their son to understand that they were just having fun.

"May I offer my knight in shining armor a chocolate bar?" Ed asked his mentor, who was visibly thinner than at Christmas.

Indeed there was an impressive stack of chocolate bars on the patient's nightstand, even without the ones Ironside had brought along.

The Chief frowned at his friend's lack of sense for priorities and wondered if he was maybe still running a fever, until a mischievous grin spread over Ed's gaunt face. "Luther Abbey proclaimed everywhere that he kept me alive with chocolate bars. Now everybody seems to present me with chocolate. And you know what? I _hate_ chocolate, always have!"

* * *

_Author's notes: _

_Thank you very much, Briroch and Lemonpig, for your corrections!_

_Thank you very much, dear readers and reviewers! You interest is much appreciated._

_Part 4 of "Sounds" will be titled "Swoosh in the Press"._


End file.
